Funhouse
by Winter5526
Summary: The Joker was captured, the city of Gotham could breathe easy. But the damage was done. The Batman had divided Gotham. Leaving it vulnerable to a new arrival. It seems the Joker has some competition for the top spot in Gotham's underworld. Joker/OC
1. Funhouse

**Funhouse**

_A Joker Fan-Fiction by Winter5526_

_**Chapter 1: Funhouse**_

The city was dark, and the air cool as the little blue car approached a side street off the main road. It was a long driveway into the parking lot of one of the most desolate places in the city. Arkham Asylum. Though the car did not deter from it's path. It had no hesitation. Nor did the young lady who drove it; she did not seem to know of the danger that lurked inside the building. Quite the opposite in fact, she smiled to herself as she tapped her fingers in the steering wheel as she hummed along to the music.

'_This used to be a funhouse,_

_But now it's full of evil clowns…'_

She smiled and found her parking space by the door. She took her keys and wrapped her coat closer to her body as she stepped out of the car. The cool breeze of the evening slipped through her legs and she shivered. As she withdrew her ID card and scanned it in the slot by the door to let the guard know that the door was opening. Sure enough, a few moments later the door opened for her and the night guard smiled when he saw a familiar face. Her pale face was framed by straight black hair that fell to below her shoulders and a straight fringe which stopped just above her big cerulean blue eyes. Her frame was slight and she was short in stature, sweet and almost always smiling. Ever since she'd started working at the Asylum, four months ago, she'd brought a brightness to the place that seemed to make everyone's day better. The guard smiled warmly,

"Evening Amelia." He said with a gentle tone.

"Evening Sam." She replied, her voice soft and musical as she flashed her pearly whites at him. She headed to the staff tea room where she hung up her coat and purse and headed to the main office to pick up her files. She approached the receptionist, an African American woman, in her forties. She was a firm voice of control and reason in this madhouse. She looked over at the young lady and smiled.

"Hey girl," Martha said warmly,

"Any new admittance?" she asked sweetly with a smile before looking through the files that were left to her.

"No, slow day today." She seemed relieved, then she looked at Amelia's uniform, "Aren't you dressed a little to promiscuous to be dealing with criminals and psychotics?" she asked pointing to the girl's skirt which stopped about mid-thigh. Amelia looked down.

"Oh… well it's the same as my other skirts…" She adjusted to pull she skirt down an inch or two. Martha smiled.

"Much better." She said and Amelia just smiled back, she looked back at her file.

"Oh, I'm in the north wing tonight." She said, mainly to herself.

"What? They put you up there?" Martha blinked, "There must be some mistake, you're only new—"

"It's alright Martha, honestly I don't mind."

"Yeah but do you know what's in there… or rather _who_ is there?" Amelia looked back at her blankly,

"No, should I?"

"The North wing is where they put the worst of the worst… where they put _him_." She leant forward as she spoke, as though it were a secret. Amelia seemed confused,

"Him?"

"The one who calls himself The Joker." Her voice was a deadly whisper, Amelia nearly laughed,

"Joker? That hardly sounds threatening."

"…You don't know who he is?" Martha was stunned. "How can you not know who he is?"

"I've only been in Gotham a few months. I think I saw some newspaper clippings about him… but I don't really know what he did…"

"He brought all of Gotham to it's knees. He had the city tearing itself apart. Undoing all of the Batman's hard work."

"We're not supposed to support a vigilante… didn't he kill a man? The DA or something?"

"Yes, around the time the Joker was caught, The Batman killed the District Attorney, Harvey Dent. The city was devastated. Some still look up to the Batman but none of it would have happened if not for the Joker."

"Oh… okay. Well he doesn't scare me." She giggled.

Martha just shook her head. "Well you be careful alright? We wouldn't want you to get too close to them." She said. Amelia just smiled and headed off to the North Wing of the Asylum. Martha looked sceptical, that girl was way to innocent and sweet. She just hoped she knew what she was doing.

Amelia hummed to herself as she scanned her card to let her in as she approached the main hallway. The décor seemed more and more drab and gloomy the further she walked. Signs on the walls were somewhat ominous '_Keep all sharp objects out of reach of patients_' and '_beware of psychotic tantrums, exercise caution at all times_' and one she had to stare at before it sunk in, '_Arkham is not responsible for loss of limb or life beyond this point_' She blinked. They could do that? She shrugged, figuring it was something to scare off anyone who wandered down here by accident. She felt better upon seeing a familiar face ahead, Aaron, one of the cooks from the cafeteria. He usually delivered the meals too. Which seemed his current assignment, though he looked ready to drop. Amelia approached with a innocent smile,

"Aaron, how are you?"

He looked up from the cart he was pushing, looking slightly panicked about his name being spoken, "huh, ah—oh, Amelia. You startled me."

"Sorry Aaron." She blushed. "Is it dinner time?" She asked pointing at the cart.

"Huh, oh, yeah. Feeding time is the highlight of my day." He said sarcastically.

"You say that like they're animals." She looked at him pointedly.

"Aren't they?" he asked with a joking grin.

"Oh you're horrible." She poked her tongue out at him. "Anyway if you're tired why not take a break and have a coffee. I'll take over." She offered. He looked suddenly nervous.

"oh… uh, I can't really." He stuttered.

"Oh come on of course you can!" Amelia replied, "I won't tell."

"Uhm… I don't know… they're kinda expecting…"

"Oh, is something happening tonight?" She asked curiously.

He seemed to jump at her words, "Happening?" he let out a false laugh, "Yeah… like anything would happen here…" Amelia looked at him oddly, and he looked around nervously. "uhh… ok well I guess I can take the cart… I'll just… get a coffee…" Amelia giggled and took the cart from his hands. "Oh… don't let the grab you're ankles. 'kay?"

Amelia just nodded, watching him wanter off, he seemed quite edgy, but she chose to ignore it, there were most likely a million thoughts in his mind. Nothing to worry about.

She looked at the trays as she slid them through the slots at the bottom of the doors. They weren't exactly 5 star meals. She felt a little sorry for the patients, surely they should at least be allowed to eat decently… She wandered down the halls and delivered each meal to those on the roster sheet, halls H through to J. each hall had 20 rooms, or cells more appropriately. And to each of those rooms she delivered a meal. She had no idea who was in each room. Only the doctors and orderlies had contacts with patients. She'd seen a few of them, when she'd bandaged some small wounds on some of the lesser patients in the hospital wing. But she'd not seen people from this wing before. Though she was only a nursing assistant, not a real doctor or psychologist, she tended to first aid really, little band-aid matters. She usually ran errands for the doctors, meaning she had to run up and down the stairs and all over Arkham to collect and deliver files, anything to help really. It was good that she was fit enough to keep up. She continued to hum to herself as she approached the 'J' hall. She paused as she rounded the hall. Down at the end of the hall was a lonely door, no number, but a large 'J' was carved into the panel of the door. She wondered who it belonged to. Someone who makes an impression on people most likely. It was kind of spooky, the letter almost seemed to have blood in the carving. Creepy. She shook her head and shrugged off the feeling and continued down the hall. There was nothing to fear. All the patients were safely locked behind their reinforced doors. There was nothing to worry about… right?

-*-

They lay in wait. The time to strike was approaching. They inched closer and closer, surveying the outside of the building, the entrances were clearly marked. They knew what to do, they'd practiced many times. It was a dangerous job, but the rewards outweighed the risks. They'd be rich. Ready to retire. Though they didn't question the boss on where the money came from. They knew they'd get paid.

"Remember, 9:38 _exactly_." The leader muttered, "The boss was real specific. Else we miss our chance." The others nodded in agreement. There were quite a few guys in on this job. Ten to be precise, excluding the one that hired them. There were four in his group, four in the group on the other side of the asylum, and two guys already creeping inside to surprise any poor doctors in their way. There was little leeway for error. And they were prepared, at much explosives and firepower as they could carry. Anyone who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time would be blown away. The cops would be there as soon as they heard about the commotion, so they had to be fast. If everything went according to plan… Gotham wouldn't know what hit it.

-*-

His head rested on the cell wall behind him, he sighed quietly to himself, there was little to do other than sleep in a place like this. Nothing to do. The nothingness was maddening. A smirk played over his Glasgow smile as he toyed with the thought. Nothing to do but think. And think he had. Many thoughts had plagued him and he was tired of thinking. He wanted to act. His plans played through over and over in his mind. Gordon. Damn him. He knew he'd be caught that night on the Prewitt building. The Bat just had to interfere. Harvey Dent had fallen from grace. Gotham's white knight had been corrupted. But noone knew. The lies Gordon and The Bat had spun irritated him. Though… The Batman had now become somewhat of an outcast now. Turned on by the people he'd chosen to protect. He laughed, that shrill, high pitched skin crawling cackle of absolute manic hilarity. The laugh that made even the most prison hardy man shudder. They knew what that laugh meant. He wanted to find the Batman and rub it in his face. The Joker still affected people while he was locked up in Arkham. He could only smirk at the power he still had over the world.

His thoughts however were interrupted when heard a soft noise by the door. The meal cart had arrived, feeding time. He awaited the voice on the other side to taunt him as usual. And the fat hairy had to shove a tray under the door. Though no taunting was to be heard. He looked over, mildly curious and raised an eyebrow when he saw a soft slender pale hand slide the tray gently beneath his door. A woman's hand. He watched the space where it had been long after the hand had withdrawn. The hand meant something surely. Routines don't just change for no reason. Not at Arkham. He sat thinking a long while, and the cart had long been rolled away. The lady whose hand it was had gone back to her other duties. It seemed an age that he sat there in thought, contemplating what he would do once he stepped out of Arkham and into the _real_ asylum. His laughter echoed down the hallways.

-*-

Amelia finished her rounds and wandered back down the halls, she hummed a tune to herself as she put the cart away. She looked down at her file, containing a list of things to do. She headed back to the closest hall office, near the J hall. She smiled to herself and with a skip in her step she rounded the corner. She froze as she came face to face with two men, clown masks covered their faces and they were dressed in black. There was a black duffel bag by their feet and what appeared to be automatic weapons in their hands. She stood looking at them, they hadn't seen her yet. A gun lay by her, it had fallen by her feet and they'd neglected to pick it up. She slowly and silently picked up the weapon and raised it. At that moment another nurse rounded the corner in front of her, she saw the men and was not as level headed as Amelia. She screamed.

-*-

The silence in Arkham was deafening. There was too many thoughts in his mind for him to even try and sleep. He sighed to himself again and was about to pick up the now cold meal tray when he heard a series of noises that were very out of the ordinary, a creaking sound. Squeaking like shoes on the linoleum floors, a clattering of metal object, hushed voices. Just when he thought he may've imagined it, a scream pierced the silence. And the familiar sound of gunfire was heard. A sinister and yet familiar smile crept onto his face. Another sound of deep voices and more gunfire. Then some shuffling sounds. He looked out to see what had happened, the tiny blurry window in the door was not clear, but he could see two dark figures picking up something and hurrying off. There was something on the floor that they left. It was white and beneath it, red.

It wasn't long before an explosion rocked the very foundations of the asylum's wall and the black smoke made anything impossible to see. He tried the door. Still locked. So he sat down on his bed, his time would come.

"_Arkham walls are falling down…falling down… falling down…_"

A song to the tune of the old nursery rhyme 'London Bridge' echoed through the halls.

"_Arkham walls are falling down… Mis-ter Bat-man…_" A manic laughter followed, sending chills up the spines of those who heard it. All but one. He sat grinning in his cell. Oh how he loved a good joke. And one not of his doing was so much sweeter.

_Okay so here's my first chapter. It's shorter than I had thought but let's hope you (who ever will read this) will like it. _

_**Reviews**__ are really important. If you __**review**__ I'll be able to keep going. I apologise for inconsistencies in character, I've never written a fan fiction before. So I'll hopefully get better with time ^^ Enjoy!_


	2. Coming Undone

**Funhouse**

_A Joker Fan-Fiction by Winter5526_

_**Chapter 2: Coming Undone**_

Ana smiled as she walked the halls of the place where the most dangerous people of Gotham had been committed. She was glad to finally see it properly, knowing that she was about to take the place down was just so… thrilling. Granted she knew she wasn't the first to blow a hole in the mad house, but she wanted to show the pathetic people of Gotham that they couldn't just lock their problems away and forget them. She'd been looking for some fun since she'd arrived back in Gotham. She hadn't been here in years… And such fun she would have. She grinned to herself, gun hidden in her white belt. Noone suspected her to be out of place here. Not in her little uniform. She acted as if she'd heard nothing, she could hear footsteps behind her as they ran to see what the disturbance was. She approached the hallway security centre and smiled, the young guard looked up. He didn't know what was happening.

"Uh… c-can I help you… Ms Munroe?" He stuttered, looking at her name tag though finding it difficult to avoid staring at her breasts. She rolled her eyes and cleared her throat.

"Yes, I think there was a file left for me here? Dr. Stelsen said I'd have to come see you." She said, her voice calm and pleasant.

"Oh, uh, I don't know if I can…" He looked up nervously, then seemed to be swayed by her…assets. He fumbled with the key and opened the door she stepped in and looked through the papers on the desk as the guard sat back down. Quick as a flash she withdrew her weapon and pointed it at the guard's head, two quiet shots and he was gone. She quickly went to panel looking for the option to open all cells when the door busted in. She looked up and came face to face with to men in clown masks. They paused, guns raised, thinking she was an actual nurse.

"About time you got here. I thought I said 9:38 you had to be inside." They lowered their guns, the first one spoke up, his mask had a sad face on it, a painted tear down the cheek.

"Oh… so you're—"

"Ana." She replied.

"Ana?" The second questioned, his mask was rather angry looking.

"Short for Anarchy." She laughed, the two guys took a step back, her laugh was familiar… eerily similar to the last anarchist the city had put away in this very establishment. "Alright, you two get all the cell's open, I'm going for a stroll." She grinned and grabbed the semi-automatic rifle from his hand and headed out to stop anyone trying to stop them. She headed right, toward the fire escape and other security station. She saw orderlies running in her direction and let out a few shots from the rifle, stopping them… dead. She laughed at her own mental joke and approached the office. The door was already open and the guard inside dead. She smirked. At least the guys she hired weren't idiots. Though one of her goons rounded a corner headed toward the open window down the hall, where the fireworks had been put.

"Is everyone ready?" She asked the man in front of her. He turned and raised a gun, though realized who she was at the last minute. They didn't recognize her dressed like this.

"Oh… uh yeah boss. We're good to go."

"Alright, blow the wall and as soon as the doors open get as many… patients out as you can. We have to Remind Gotham what it should never have forgotten…" She muttered.

"Uh… remind them of what boss?" The goon asked. She gave him a death glare and he got the message and hurried off.

"Remind them that the _real_ asylum… is this whole city." She whispered to herself. It was a few minutes later, she was headed back to the main entrance, nearing the J hall that she felt the beginnings of the explosion.

She cackled, her laugh emanating down every hall, every room and through the whole asylum. The dusk and smoke filled the main halls making everything harder to see. She skipped down the halls joyfully as she sung the song she'd hummed all night to herself,

"_Arkham walls are falling down… falling down… falling down… Arkham walls are falling down… Mis-ter Bat-man…_" She mocked the great bat… to all his power he had not seen this coming. Neither had the 'famous' Commissioner Gordon. Most likely they'd only just been called. So time was of the essence. It wouldn't take them long to cross the bridge to the Narrows and get to Arkham. She paused as she heard footsteps. A few shouts, the footsteps came closer, hurried, running. So they weren't her men. She took a deep breath of the smoke in the hall as she heard the 'clunk' of door after door containing the patients opened one by one. As they did so heads began to peek out of the gaps between the doors and the wall. Ana raised her weapon, the runners were closer… closer… She laughed. And Fired. As the orderlies went down the last door opened. The one with the 'J' on it. She had no time to linger, she laughed again, cackling at her jest on the city as she headed for the exit.

-*-

The doors. He could hear the doors clunking open one at a time. He heard laughter. The clunking noise got louder. More laughing. Finally… 'CLUNK' His door was unlocked and it eased open a tiny bit. He stood, his freedom was at hand. The image he saw upon exiting his cell was one he would never forget. Through the dark smoke, at the end of the hallway, a nurse stood with a pistol in one hand, a large rifle in the other rested against her body for support so she could hold it with one hand. She was laughing manically as she let rip with the firearms. Two members of staff to the asylum were unfortunately standing in the path. He had never seen anything quite like it. Unless he'd done it of course. She had embodied a message he himself had tried to convey. He grinned, a smile of which he had not felt in so long. He let his voice join hers in a manic cackle as she disappeared from site. He was about to follow when two men in clown masks stepped up and handed everyone weapons telling them to follow them so they could escape the vicinity before the asylum was blown apart. Deciding that this was the better of the two options, he chose to obey.

-*-

The office was quiet that night, not much had happened at all really. The movie line entered Commisioner Gordon's mind '_It's quiet… too quiet._' Quiet nights made him nervously relieved. He sighed and rubbed his temple, he had just begun to hope he was going to head home on time… the phone rang. The news on the other end was not one he wanted to hear. His expression grew dark as his face paled.

Arkham had been infiltrated.

He hung up and immediately shouted at anyone who dared to enter the office, he picked up his mobile phone and began dialling the number of every police station in Gotham as he donned his coat and rushed down to his car. He had to get there, he knew who was in that place. If _he_ got out…

"Send every available officer and paramedics down to Arkham! Get the situation under control before anyone can escape, we could be facing a potential disaster zone!" He shouted down the phone. He hurried to his car and got in, speeding away, keeping in constant contact with the other officers headed down to bedlam. There was no way he could let that madman escape again.

-*-

The female assailant's voice echoed down the hall as she laughed, the patients who had escaped moved around her, afraid and grateful. The staff were nothing to her as they fell in a hail of bullets. She was untouchable! She had just come from the staff room to collect her signature army style hat and coat. She approached the main set of stairs that led down to the sign in office. She was near her destination. Once she passed through those doors, she'd be nothing more than a false memory. Smoke in the breeze. Ana grinned as she spotted a familiar face, she raised the weapon slightly and fired two rounds, letting him fall, a shocked expression on his face. A scream echoed in the otherwise empty hall. Ana turned and looked behind the main desk to see yet another familiar face. She grinned widely, looking somewhat possessed.

"Hello Martha." Her voice was soft but perfectly audible. Deadly and yet a hint of laughter lingered behind her lips.

"No… you… how could you?! Tell me you didn't do this!" She cried. Ana raised the gun.

"Oh but I did. And you know what the funny part is? You all thought I was one of you!" a giggle escaped her lips again. "You all didn't do a very good job of 'spot the maniac' did you?" She smiled.

"But… you… you are-" she gasped, and screamed as Ana grinned and pulled the trigger. The woman collapsed, a pool of blood already forming beneath her. Ana giggled, suddenly she heard another explosion above her. She smiled, the asylum walls were coming down… She unclipped her ID tag as she passed the slumped body of the night guard, dropping the little white card on his chest.

"Night Sam." She whispered. In the firelight, the Card showed the smiling picture of a young woman with a pale face and black hair. The name below read: '_Amelia Munroe_'

-*-

Chris Parish's day had not gone well, first he has missed the bus and thus was late to work, he was only 20, still a kid really. His boss wasn't the nicest of guys, so his pay had been docked for being tardy. He lived alone too; lonely and his medications were not working the way they should have. The thoughts that crept into his mind… He could feel himself slipping into the old ways and nightmares… It was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to be normal. And get on with his boring life. Boring was good. Boring wasn't scary.

So after work that day, he responsibly chose to visit Arkham and speak to the nurses there. That way he can get his medication dose upped or even recommitted to the asylum again. Anything to make the dreams go away. It was only a few blocks from the bus…

'_I'll be ok, nothing is going to happen, I won't get mugged, I look poorer than most of the bums in this city..._' He thought to himself as he walked. The city as dark, most people couldn't afford electricity. Even the whores on the corner didn't bother him, to them he was just another crazy junkie. Even though he hadn't touched any illegal drugs in a long long time. But they weren't to know that his parents were hippies that believed in wild freedom. They didn't know that his parents decided to give him LSD almost everyday til he was taken away at age twelve. The hookers didn't know that. Why should they? He placed his hands over his face a moment to clam himself down. '_I hope Cristina's there... She always has nice perfume…_'

However, he chose the wrong night to walk down to bedlam. That night was Arkham's last. Not that he knew it.

'_No, its too late, she only does afternoon shifts..._' He whimpered slightly to himself, '_I'll have to see Martha... She'll know what to do. I do hope it's not too late. No the night staff should be able to see me... I don't think I could last til Monday with the last of my meds. I need that extra dose... They always have a doctor on call..._' The closer he got to Arkham's looming form the more he had to re-assure himself. His hands began to shake. '_They know me. My file is there and once I see them everything will be fine... Everything will be_-'

As he approached the alleyway exit, just across the road from the main building, he looked up to see a figure approaching, having just left the place he was about to enter. She was wearing what appeared to be a long trench coat, and a white dress beneath it. As well as an… army hat? On top of her head. She was laughing and looked up to the night sky, her arms spread wide,

"Just try and stop me!" She screamed to the stars above. She spun on the spot and her arms shot into the air above her head. Just as Arkham behind her was engulfed in flames. The explosion shattered windows in nearby buildings and car alarms went off in the distance. Chris stood there stunned. With a gesture of her hand she blown Arkham to pieces. This had to be a dream… a waking nightmare to which he could only imagine. There was no way that really happened. But it was so real…

The young woman appeared to be heading in his direction. She was chuckling to herself as she approached, she spotted him a moment later, her smile widened. He expected her to stop. But she kept walking, closer to him and pinned him to the wall with her body and holds a knife to his face.

"Hello there..." she whispers. She watched his face as he felt a bead of sweat roll down his face. He was frozen with shock, who was this woman? Where had she come from? Why was she here? Was she really there?

"Uhda da da.. Uhh.." He spluttered violently, "heh hell-ooo?" he answered lamely, making his terror obvious. She glanced down at the name tag.

"Jeremy..." She cooed, "it's very nice to meet you. You know... that reminds me of a song..." She smiles sweetly.

'_Jeremy_?' he thought, then remembered he was wearing his workmates name tag. "Myyy-" but he was cut short of telling her his real name. Realising it best not to correct a knife wielding maniac. Wait… surely this couldn't be happening? The asylum couldn't have exploded. Was this a dream?

"I'm curious, Jeremy... What is a young lad like yourself doing out here at the late hour of which it is?" She asked him, leaning in she smelt of roses, vanilla and warm spices. Her smile seemed evilly wide, as though she were having the time of her life, stroking his face with the blade like that. She giggled when he winced, he wanted to run but even if he found the strength to push her off, his legs were jelly.

"Waaa—lking," he stuttered, his voice was no longer controlled by him, his answers came out all distorted, "are yyouuuu… Real?'' he choked, eyes wide. Eyes that were muddy brown colour like the dirt beneath their feet, as she was standing this close he was sure she could smell his sweaty fear, the deodorant he'd administered to himself earlier had now worn off. Now he just stunk and he knew it. Would she kill him for smelling so bad? He hoped not, he had to go inside and talk to the nurses.

She grinned at him, as though she could hear his thoughts. "Oh yes my boy. I'm as real as they get. Do you.... like my handiwork?" she gestures to the burning building. Smiling widely, like it were a mask painted to her, half her face lit by the flames behind them, the other half hiding in darkness. His eyes glance to the burning inferno for barely a moment before returning to hers, soft blue orbs that seem to mimic the fire behind her.

"Its… Very bright." he smiled at her, hoping to all hell that the nightmare would ens and he would awake and could go inside. He needed to talk to the doctors only they could help him.

"Oh isn't it?" She tilted her head to the side cutely, as though he were commenting about something she wore. "I plan to remake all of Gotham like this..." She paused for a moment and he could hear sirens approaching, "That, my boy is my cue... I'll be seeing you… Jeremy." she laughs again as she kissed his cheek and dropped him in a heap on the cold cement pavement. As she headed down the alley, she began to sing,

"_Daddy didn't give attention,_

_Oh, to the fact that mommy didn't care,_

_King Jeremy the wicked...oh, ruled his world…"_ Chris was left dazed staring at the flames as they burned higher. The sirens closing in.

-*-

Gordon kicked the tyre of his vehicle in anger,

"Damnit!" he cried, "Are there any survivors?" He asked, turning to the nearest uniformed officer. The firemen were already on the scene, and tending to the flames with their cold water. Gordon had arrived to see the flames and he knew it was too late. Even before they'd told him about a hundred patients escaped. Even before they told him it was the dangerous patients. Even before they knew the clown masked men had come for him. He knew. In his heart he knew the Joker was long gone. He should have known the Joker would escape again. This time he got some of his goons to help him force his way out. Damn him! Gordon kicked the tyre again as the officer cleared his throat.

"Yes, but not many, seven so far, all with severe burns. The only one talking is a kid they found across the road muttering about the nurses." The officer replied.

"Let me speak to him," Gordon muttered tiredly,

"Sir, you can go home. You're the commissioner, not a detective—"

"I said let me speak to him!" the commissioner retorted loudly, he wanted to know everything the police knew. As soon as it happened. He couldn't be kept out of the loop. There had to be something… Gordon was lead to a squad car to where a young man sat, his hair was black and greasy, his skin pale and clammy, he was sitting on the edge of the seat, half hanging out of the car he seemed to be shaking, muttering to himself.

"Are you alright there son?" he asked softly. The kid looked up suddenly, his eyes seemed faraway.

"Will the nurses let me in yet? I gotta get some more meds… Or the crazy nurse will come back…" Gordon sighed. Another junkie that didn't even see anything coherent.

"Look, I need you to tell me if you saw anything." The older man muttered, he was tired, and this kid wasn't easing his headache.

"I saw… the nurse in the army hat. And she brought flames from the sky with her hands. I just wanna get more meds… My head is really starting to hurt."

"What's you're name son?"

"Jeremy… no wait… that's what she called me… my name is Chris. Chris Parish." Gordon nodded and gestured for a uniform to get contact details for the boy. Damn him. Damn that Joker. Come hell or high water Gordon swore he would put him back behind bars again.

Little did he know how truthful Chris was. And little did he know the real perpetrator was laughing at him from afar. But he would learn.

They would all learn.

* * *

_Okay, there's chapter two! Bet you weren't expecting Amelia to be evil! Mwahahaha. I force feed you evilness! XD_

_Alright, please review!!! I wanna know what y'all think! Hopefully I'll be abdle to get the next issue out soon. ^^_

_Thanks much! _

_~Winter_


End file.
